


Hunger

by mortalatte



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ATSUMU IS A CRIER, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Miya Atsumu, COMES OUT SOFTER THAN I THOUGHT?, Canon Compliant, Creampie, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Fluff, M/M, Miya Atsumu Cries During Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Hinata Shouyou, pet names?, showering tsumu with all the love, sweet sub tsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26816419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortalatte/pseuds/mortalatte
Summary: Atsumu is a demanding ass, and Shouyou isnotgreedy, no sire, but boy if he isn’t about to feast on Atsumu’s ass.or: in which Atsumu gets to be eaten out and thoroughly fucked to hell and back, as a treat, for his birthday.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 58
Kudos: 469





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> in this fic atsumu and shouyou have been going steady for a pretty long time. They’ve also lived together for quite awhile. 
> 
> Thank you so much [Maren](https://twitter.com/boomturkeyao3) for the beta!!! <3<3

There is a heavy weight on Shouyou’s chest. 

Not the emotional kind; he’s currently living his best life as far as he’s aware, life’s all easy and breezy. It’s _physical w_ eight. There is a physical weight on Shouyou’s chest, and it just woke him up from deep slumber before the sunrise could reach his eyes. It’s also making it harder for him to breathe. Still half asleep, Shouyou tries to draw more air into his lungs through his nose. A musky smell he’s deeply familiar with comes along with his inhale. Shouyou opens his eyes. 

Lo and behold, there is an erect cock in Shouyou’s face. 

He is so well-acquainted with the shape and the veins circling its shaft, his sleep-addled brain immediately knows to whom this stupendous cock belongs without having to look up. Shouyou smiles. 

“You’re killing me, you know,” he says. His voice is still throaty from the early hour, half-strangled due to the eighty damn kilograms of beauty sitting on his chest. 

“Mornin’,” Atsumu says, sweet and sheepish. He looks down at Shouyou in all his naked glory. What a sight to wake up to. 

Shouyou hums and reaches up to run his hands all over Atsumu’s chiseled abs and muscled tits. Taking up his morning fill. Atsumu’s skin is clean, soft, and warm to the touch; fresh from a morning shower. Shouyou can count the number of times Atsumu has woken up before him with just one hand. 

“To what occasion do I owe this privilege, Your Highness?” Shouyou grins. His thumbs rubbing around the perked nubs of Atsumu’s nipples. Atsumu’s breath hitches, but he schools his expression back into a pout. 

“You know what,” he mumbles. 

Shouyou raises his eyebrows. He squeezes Atsumu’s tits to encourage him to continue. Twice, for good measure. 

Atsumu huffs. “...smybirthday,” a murmur through his teeth, his cheeks pinkening.

Atsumu. Sweet, sweet Atsumu. Demanding and eager to please, but never one to ask first. If Shouyou were meaner, he’d ask Atsumu to repeat his words. But it is Atsumu’s birthday so Shouyou indulges him. 

“I reckon so,” Shouyou settles his hands on Atsumu’s waist. The grin on Shouyou’s face grows into a shit-eating one. 

“Don’t ya have anything to say to me?” 

“Hm,” Shouyou scrunches his eyebrows, pretending to think. “You’re right. Could you get up for a sec? Need to text Osamu-san a happy birthday.” 

Atsumu squawks, indignant. He smushes Shouyou’s cheeks and kneads them around, garbling the giggles tumbling out of Shouyou’s lips. “You’re mean. Have I ever told you that?” 

Plenty of times. But Atsumu never really means it. “Am not,” Shouyou burbles, his lips still squished between Atsumu’s grip. Shouyou puts his hands on top of Atsumu’s and intertwines their fingers, pulling them apart from his cheeks. He kisses each palm, soft and feather-light, if only to soften the pout on Atsumu’s face. 

"Happy birthday," he says, sincere from deep within his chest. Atsumu all but melts on top of him; a satisfied grin stretching from ear to ear with eyes that make Shouyou's heart stutter. This Atsumu, tender and happy and vulnerable, is Shouyou's best-kept secret. 

He directs Atsumu's hands to rest on his jaw again. "So?" he asks. 

"So, what?" Atsumu asks back. He's being avoidant and they both know it. 

He gives Atsumu’s cock a harsh tug; Atsumu shudders. “What’s this so ready for?” Shouyo teases. 

“Well. Y’know,” Atsumu says, embarrassed. 

“I know?” Shouyou says, with a chuckle, fond. 

Atsumu squirms. The blush from his cheeks crawl downwards to his chest, and Shouyou gives in. Only because it’s Atsumu’s birthday. Shouyou circles his thumb around the tip of Atsumu’s cock, spreading the bead of precum that collects there around. “You want my mouth?” he asks, gentle. 

“Nuh-uh,” Atsumu shakes his head, “Not on that.” His blush turns more intense. 

_Oh_ , Shouyou realizes, there is only one thing that can turn Atsumu this mousy. The one thing he is always too abashed to ask for. No wonder Atsumu went out of his way for a shower so early in the morning. 

“Scooch up, then,” Shouyou says, tapping Atsumu’s butt.

Atsumu lights up; pleased as punch. He clambers up Shouyou’s body and grabs the headboard. His ass hovers a few centimeters above Shouyou’s face; not pushing them onto Shouyou’s mouth just yet. He’s letting Shouyou feast on the view first. Cheeky. 

Shouyou rubs the curve of Atsumu’s ass, reverent, and spreads them with his hands. Atsumu’s hole is pink and somewhat loose; it smells like soap and the mango lube they just bought two days ago. He’s also completely shaven because Atsumu is cute and secretly insecure like that. Shouyou huffs. 

“Hinata Shouyou,” Atsumu says from above him, “s’not a painting y’know, less staring more acting please,” he grumbles, as if he wasn’t the one who present his ass as an art piece first. 

“What can I do? it’s pretty babe,” Shouyou absently replies, but then he flattens his tongue and licks a long trail from Atsumu’s hole to his taint, relishing on the soft wrinkles. He sucks the skin there, and Atsumu’s breath hitches, soft and quiet.

“Shou,” he sighs, anticipation in his voice. 

“C’mere,” Shouyou puts his arms around Atsumu’s ample, athletic thighs and pulls them down; ass onto his face. And then he digs in. Going to town, tongue first, into Atsumu’s hole he’s stretched apart with his thumbs. 

Atsumu _moans._

“ _Shouyou_ ,” he gasps, pleading. Shouyou answers with his tongue swirling around inside Atsumu, pressing his thumbs into his hole a little. He lets his teeth scrape the outside, as gentle as he can, and Atsumu keens. Needy little noises, falling off his lips unbridled. Shouyou hums. There are a lot of things that Shouyou loves about Atsumu, but in bed: it’s how loud and pliant he is, moans and whimpers laced with lust. 

Shouyou’s lapping at Atsumu’s hole, nuzzling his nose against the skin between it and his balls, with a finger pumping in and out—Atsumu’s _oh, oh, fuck, Shouyou_ is music to his ears — when Atsumu grinds _d_ _own._

Ah, there it is. Atsumu’s demanding streak. 

“Shou, Shouyou, _more,_ ” Atsumu whines, as if he isn’t suffocating Shouyou as is. His hips gyrate in a small circle; insistent and wanting. Shouyou, unable to reply due to the tongue-in-hole situation he’s in, smacks Atsumu’s ass. Hard. Atsumu screams; the plump of his ass jiggles from the vibration of Shouyou’s hand. Jesus, his ass. Shouyou squeezes both cheeks, marveling at how his whole palms are filled full with Atsumu’s ass. He slaps them again, this time with both hands, and Atsumu sobs—honest to god _sobs_. Shouyou can feel heat from the skin under his palms. He imagines red hand-shaped imprints brandished on Atsumu’s skin; the image spurs him to give Atsumu a particularly hard shove with his tongue.

“God, _yes_ ,” Atsumu moans, his hips stutter, “ah, ah, _babe_ —” 

Shouyou grabs both of Atsumu’s cheeks and keeps them in place, his muscles straining, while he kisses and licks into Atsumu’s asshole like he’s making out with it. Shaking his head, his finger sliding in and out, prodding along with his tongue. Atsumu often calls him selfish and greedy, usually when they’re being sore at each other, but here’s what Atsumu gets wrong: Shouyou isn’t greedy. He is just taking what’s his. And if making Atsumu _his_ means answering to Atsumu’s each and every demand, then _goddamn_ Shouyou’s giving it his all. Aren’t they a match.

Shouyou eats Atsumu out long enough that his hole is now wet and sloppy; spit trickling down Shouyou’s chin onto the bed. Over the sound of Atsumu’s ceaseless moans, Shouyou can hear the tell-tale sound of flesh, wet and squelching; Atsumu is jerking himself off. Shouyou cannot see it from this angle, but he has watched Atsumu doing that plenty of times before. He can imagine how Atsumu looks right now: splotchy red down to his tits, mouth hanging open, while his hand tugs on his cock hard and fast. 

The mental image is _too fucking much_. Shouyou, aroused to high heaven, reaches down and frees his cock from his straining boxers. It’s hard and aching, painful as hell, so Shouyou gives his cock a tight squeeze and a nice rub—firm and languid, from the bottom of the shaft to the wet, messy tip. He groans from the sensation, and Atsumu whines above him. 

Atsumu’s voice is getting higher and higher, the _s_ _chlop, schlop_ sound from his hand on his cock gets more frantic. Shouyou can feel Atsumu’s hole fluttering around his tongue and his balls pulling up, getting tighter and tighter. 

“Shouyou, ‘m close, coming, _coming,_ ” Atsumu pants, his voice shaking. He clamps his thighs hard around Shouyou’s head. Shouyou can feel them tremble while Atsumu cries out his name, sweet and high and pretty. His hole clenches as he comes, and Shouyou shoves both of his thumbs in, licking around them hard; giving it his best for the home stretch. Atsumu shakes his hips and grinds down, reveling on Shouyou’s tongue while he shoots come all over himself. 

When Atsumu stops moving and Shouyou can hear him gathering his breaths, Shouyou gives any surface his lips can reach some fluttering kisses. _You’re amazing_ , he wants to say, _you are so hot and I am frankly losing my mind._

Atsumu grunts and rolls over onto the bed next to Shouyou, his limbs all loose and easy. Shouyou is not done yet though. Shouyou gets on his knees, looming above Atsumu. God, he doesn’t think his cock has ever been this hard. With one hand, he pushes Atsumu’s thighs apart, while he jerks himself off with another. Atsumu’s hole is now red and obscenely wet; there’s come all over Atsumu’s tits, some even strayed far enough to hit his chin. _God_ , what a sight. 

Atsumu, sweet, sweet Atsumu, slowly blinks at Shouyou and gingerly, with care, puts his hands behind his knees and pulls them up and apart: his hole presented like a gift. His eyes are still bleary and his face’s all soft and open, but he moves his index fingers into his hole, hooking the tips inside, and stretching it. He bites his lips, and his eyes beseech Shouyou, as if he’s saying: _please, for you_. Shouyou has never seen anything more beautiful. 

“Look at you, sweet thing,” he coos, “Tongue’s not enough, your hole wants my cock too?” 

“Mm-hmm,” Atsumu nods, “Please, Shouyou,” he pleads, desperate, tears forming in his eyes. 

Who is Shouyou to refuse the birthday boy?

Shouyou makes haste to reach out for their bottle of lube, shoved behind their pillows. He quickly lathers his cock with it, his eyes never leaving the expanse of Atsumu’s bare skin; it flushes all over, so pretty under the early morning sun. 

When Shouyou pushes his cock inside, Atsumu’s breaths quicken. Peals of whimpers rising from the back of his throat — an increasingly higher noise of _ah, ah, ah_ s — fat tears roll down from his eyes, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. 

Shouyou, only halfway in, stops his movement and gently combs Atsumu’s hair, shushing him. “Sweetheart, babe, is it too much? Want me to pull out?” 

“ _No_ ," Atsumu wails. He hooks his legs behind Shouyou’s ass, digs hard, and pushes him even deeper. He moans, deep and guttural, along with Shouyou’s heartfelt groan. It’s so hot and tight inside Atsumu. Atsumu then pulls Shouyou into a tight hug; he lets out a content sigh, raking his blunt nails across Shouyou’s back, up and down. 

There are days where Atsumu is like this; adamant on getting over his oversensitivity after he comes just so he can have Shouyou’s hard cock sit inside him. Shouyou knows how uncomfortable it can get, so he stills inside Atsumu. He kisses the tears away from Atsumu’s eyes, cheeks, and jaw; whispering a stream of sweet nothings that only seem to rouse Atsumu’s tears even more: _Tsumu, my sweet Atsumu, so good for me, so pretty, my love_.

By the time Atsumu is full-blown weeping — shedding tears nonstop, face all blotchy, with snot he discreetly tries to wipe — his body has turned all sweet and lax. Shouyou draws gentle circles over Atsumu’s cheekbone. “Can I move?” he asks, low and soft, careful as not to break the fragile air between them. 

Atsumu sniffs, nodding his head while his eyes never leaving Shouyou’s. Shouyou smiles and kisses the tip of his reddened nose. “Bear with me, I won’t last long either.”

Shouyou tries to give a tentative thrust and Atsumu inhales sharply, his lips tremble open. But this time is a bit different; Shouyou sees pleasure wash over Atsumu’s expression. He can feel Atsumu’s cock slowly filling up, poking against his stomach, so he reaches down and loosely tugs on it with the same rhythm as his thrusts.

Atsumu’s little moans fill in the air between them. It’s really, _really_ hot. Shouyou sweats, dripping all over his back and down his forehead. He grinds his hips against Atsumu’s, burying his throbbing cock deep inside him, as deep as he can, as if he wants to leave a mark there. Atsumu sobs and thrusts against Shouyou, moving his hips in circles; beckoning him to go even deeper. 

Atsumu comes with a whimper; Shouyou’s sitting flush inside him, snug and deep. Atsumu’s cock sputters weakly, drooling cum that slowly slides down and pools on his groin. His mouth is agape with his tongue lolling out; dazed.

Shouyou huffs. He peppers Atsumu’s blissed out face with kisses as he carefully pulls out. He takes his cock into his hand — hotter and wetter than before — and jacks it off fast and hard. His erratic breathing sweeps down the soft strands of Atsumu’s hair, as he ogles at how much of a gorgeous wreck he’s turned Atsumu into.

“Sho, Shouyou,” Atsumu whispers, his voice cracking from overuse. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Shouyou says. He slows his hand down. 

Wordlessly, Atsumu puts his hands behind his knees and pulls them apart, presenting his hole _again_. It now gapes even wider. Shouyou can hear blood rushing inside his ears. “Inside, please,” Atsumu breathes.

Shouyou groans, loud and deep. His hand works on his shaft furiously, stroking it fast, while his hips move around; rubbing his cock against Atsumu’s taint and hole, slobbering with the wet, messy mixture of lube and spit. And then the tip of his cock catches on Atsumu’s hole and plunges inside, just a little, at the tip, and Shouyou sees white.

“Atsumu, _Atsumu,_ ” he sobs. His cock pumps come into Atsumu, once, twice, and Shouyou pulls back a bit only for the third spurt to paint the outside of his hole white. Atsumu exhales a thready moan, content, and he flexes his butt muscles, pushing a little of Shouyou’s come out. A dribble of white spills and slides down between his cheeks. God, does Atsumu _know_ how to make a spectacle out of himself. 

Shouyou lightly slaps Atsumu’s ass — to Atsumu’s overdramatic _Ow!_ — and collapses next to him. He levels his breath, coming down from the high, while he reaches over for Atsumu’s hand and intertwines their fingers. Atsumu rolls sideways to face Shouyou, and he tucks himself closer, their thighs brushing against each other. The look on his face is so open and unabashed with fondness, Shouyou wants to bottle it up and hug it close, close against his heart. 

Shouyou pulls their entwined hands up onto his lips. He kisses Atsumu’s knuckles, one by one. “Happy birthday,” he says, again. 

Atsumu hums, his smile turning into a wide grin. Blushes bloom on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, happiness radiates from his very being. There is no way Shouyou can stay still seeing that. He wiggles closer and presses his lips against Atsumu’s, tasting salt from the drying tears. But then a protesting whine comes from the back of Atsumu’s throat. 

“No kiss, you haven’t brushed yer teeth!” Atsumu tears his mouth away, avoiding Shouyou’s puckered lips. 

Shouyou cackles. “I just ate your ass out and you’re complaining about my _morning breath_?” 

“This and that are different,” he says, petulant. 

“Well, I don’t think my morning breath and your ass are _that_ different.”

Atsumu gasps, completely scandalized, and Shouyou captures it with his lips; his laugh melds with Atsumu’s whining. He winds his arms around Atsumu’s waist and pulls him close. 

There are still so many things to do: cleaning up, changing the sheets, cooking a special birthday breakfast for Atsumu, getting on his knee with the little box he’s been hiding in the corner of his drawer since last week. But they all can wait. The day has just started. 

For now, Shouyou wants to hold Atsumu close against his ribs and cup Atsumu’s face tenderly in his hands; filling the deep well of wants inside Atsumu with their shared intimacy, and then some. 

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATSUMU WE (AND SHOUYOU) LOVE YOU
> 
> kudos are very appreciated, and comments make my day infinitely better. 
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mortalatte/status/1312800733377581056?s=20)!


End file.
